Krotos
by EFAW
Summary: Tamaki doesn't know what to do without Kyouya. Oneshot. Companion to 'Chorizo'.


**Summary: **Tamaki doesn't know what to do without Kyouya. Companion to 'Chorizo'. Oneshot

**Warnings: **Angst. Tama angst. Considering what I could have done, it's not so bad.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ouran or any of their characters. Because if I DID own Ouran, there'd be a lot more slash. You can bet on THAT.

This is the companion fic to my piece 'Chorizo'. You don't have to read that one to make sense of this one, but if you want it from Kyouya's point of view, go read 'Chorizo'.

Now, onward to the story!

**OOOO**

**Prologue**

"--so I really think that we should do a sort of _Russian_ theme next time. It could be really cool! We can have those cool fuzzy hats and _everything_! And maybe we could remodel the garden to be a sort of Siberian desert, what do you think?"

"Tamaki, remember the budget…"

"I know, I _know_, Kyouya. But think about it, wouldn't it be _cool_?"

The driver was new.

The driver had chauffeured rich people before, and he had chauffeured famous people before. He had not, however, chauffeured people who were quite as rich or famous as these two. Besides, he had never seen anyone as beautiful as Suoh Tamaki-sama and Ootori Kyouya-sama, not even in the most charming of ladies. So this new driver had a tendency to stare just a little two long in the rearview mirror at the two beautiful boys talking about themes.

That was why he ran the red light.

It happened in a split second.

There was a squeal of tires, both from the limousine and the oncoming car. The driver jerked the wheel, in a mindless attempt to somehow swerve out of the way, but only succeeded in bringing the back end of the limo all the closer to the approaching vehicle. And in that mindless, split second, Tamaki felt Kyouya lean over, wrapping his arms around the blond's head and body.

_Collision._

And then…

Then there was a deathly silence, and Tamaki could just faintly hear a soft 'plip, plip," could feel a warm trickle on his cheek, and he thought for a second that Kyouya was _crying_. Which was silly, because Kyouya didn't cry.

Tamaki shifted slightly in the wreckage of the car, wincing as something sharp jabbed into his leg, the faint wail of sirens sounding in the distance. He didn't pay any attention to it, though. He just wanted --_needed_-- to find out if Kyouya was crying. If Kyouya was crying, he had to stop it.

He glanced up.

He saw the blood.

And he screamed.

**OOOO**

**Krotos**

When Tamaki woke, he knew he was dead.

He had to be dead. It was a pretty white light, all around him, and there was a soft, dreamy feeling floating everywhere. Since there was the vague sort of recollection of a car crash, he knew he had to be dead. After all, there was no pain anywhere, and he was feeling utterly, totally relaxed. Letting out a soft breath, the blond closed his eyes. As nice as heaven was, the white light was bright and hurting his eyes.

Then an annoying beeping entered his consciousness, and he opened his eyes again.

Sighing, the blond shakily pushed himself up, grimly realizing that this wasn't heaven, but it _was_ a hospital. Then his strength left him, and he flopped back down on the bed again, panting like he'd run a marathon. What was wrong with him?

Let's see…there was the crash…then…

_there was blood so much blood, and he was screaming at Kyouya to wake up open your eyes STOP PLAYING and he was shaking him, shaking Kyouya so hard but Kyouya still wasn't waking up HE WASN'T WAKING UP—_

_Lights flashing sirens sounds hand, soft hands, gentle hands, pulling careful "It's okay now, it's okay, just calm down" but he WOULDN'T not until Kyouya woke up—_

_Then something poked his arm 'prick' and everything went fuzzy and dark…_

Gasping, the Suoh bolted upright in the bed, scanning the room. Where was Kyouya? He…he needed to find Kyouya, needed to make sure that Kyouya was okay. He _had_ to make sure he was okay.

Even the morphine or whatever painkiller he was getting couldn't douse the panic rising up in his throat.

Legs trembling underneath him, he swung off the bed, gripping the railing until he gained his balance. He would not fall. He _couldn't_ fall. He had to find Kyouya, _had to_ find him. He wouldn't be content until he saw Kyouya and the Ootori glared at him and called him stupid.

Because Kyouya had to be okay.

He _had to be okay_.

Choking back sobs—why was he crying? Kyouya was going to be _fine_—the blond staggered across the mile-long room, clutching the doorframe once it got close enough. Letting his legs steady underneath him, he pushed off, stepping out into the hall—

And walked right into a nurse.

Oh, she was a very nice nurse, catching him under the arms as the painkillers kicked in again and made his legs go numb. But she didn't _understand_, she didn't realize that Tamaki had to see Kyouya, _had to make sure Kyouya's okay_. She was pulling him back into the room, talking to him about something he didn't (couldn't) understand, and the drugged little Suoh was no match for her.

"Please," he begged her, voice the only protest he had left. She fiddled with the controls on something, and there was a rush of…of floating painlessness.

"Please," he pleaded, the words slurring a little at the end. "Have to…have to _seeee_…Kyo-ya…"

The nurse merely gave him a sympathetic look.

Then the drugs kicked in and he let the darkness envelop him.

**XXXX**

When he woke up again, his father was beside the bed.

For a few moments, Tamaki stared at his father, the man almost unrecognizable in a haze of drugs and panic. Not his panic. His father's. The man appeared to have rushed right over from a meeting or something; still dressed in a suit, hair still neatly combed back, but rumpled, out of place.

Tamaki was, just a little, touched.

Even when he'd caught that cold and his father came home early, his father looked perfect as usual. But, of course, it was one thing to receive a call that your son was sick and another call that said your son was in a car accident and was now in the hospital. So, it made sense, he supposed.

'Hey,' the blond tried whispering, but only a parched grunt came out. It was enough to catch his father's attention, though.

"Here, son," the man murmured, leaning over and grabbing some ice chips. "It'll help your throat."

Tamaki sucked the ice chips down greedily, letting out a soft sound of relief as the cool liquid soothed his sore throat. It did help. He hadn't even realized how sore his throat was.

After a few more ice chips, his father pulled back, looking at him with concern. "Are you alright, Tamaki?"

Tamaki nodded, the movement helping to clear some of the haze away. "Kyouya?" he asked after a minute. The familiar panic rose up again as his father's face tightened.

Seeing the look on his boy's face, the Chairman leaned over. "Tamaki, he's alright. He's…alive." That helped, a little, and the panic receded someone. "But…Ootori-san wasn't as lucky as you were."

Confusion festered in those blue-purple depths. "Lucky?"

The Chairman sighed. "I suppose you'd better see for yourself."

**XXXX**

Kyouya looked so _small_ in the hospital bed. He was normally such a vibrant personality, dominating the room from the shadows. With just a word, he could make the whole atmosphere in the room turn towards him. And if he wanted to disappear, he could just slink back in the shadows and let Tamaki take the stage, and no one paid any mind to the Ootori. But the Ootori was always watching and observing everything around him.

But now…

Now he was just this small, cold, fragile seventeen-year-old, all traces of that huge personality gone. Taking a shuddering breath, Tamaki stumbled into the room, shrugging off his father's supporting hand, feeling just a little bit…_afraid_. This isn't Kyouya, this can't be Kyouya, Kyouya isn't like this—

But his eyes flicked over the familiar face, the sharp nose, the high cheeks, those dark dark eyelashes framing even darker eyes (currently closed). It was all so familiar.

Only it wasn't.

Because Kyouya wasn't awake.

"Kyouya," the blond whispered, falling down in the seat next to the bed. He gathered the Ootori's left hand in his own, purple-blue darting over the still frame for any injury.

Kyouya's arm was in a bulky white cast, and Tamaki had the thought that Kyouya would be pissed about that, not being able to write. How was he supposed to keep his notebook up to date if he couldn't write down his notes?

There were white bandages wrapped around Kyouya's head, stark against the dark black of his hair, but Tamaki let his eyes linger only a second on those, before going back to his study. There were a few scrapes on Kyouya's arms, and the nurse had said something about lots of injuries on his back, but of course Tamaki wouldn't be able to see _those_, seeing as how, you know, Kyouya was lying on his back.

But…but he looked okay, otherwise. He looked just the same as normal. Just a little paler.

"Thank god," Tamaki breathed out, keeping Kyouya's hand locked firmly between his shaking ones. Thank god the damage hadn't been worse. Thank god Kyouya wasn't…wasn't worse off.

Thank god he was okay.

"He'll wake up soon, right?" the blond asked, still watching the sleeping Ootori.

If he had been looking at his father, he would have seen the tight, pinched look again. But he was still looking at Kyouya, still trying to figure it out, because there was something wrong. Kyouya was too still. There wasn't even a flicker behind his eyelids, he hadn't reacted to anything at all, not a thing…

Blue-purple eyes flicked to the different machines set up around the room.

Then dread settled in the pit of his stomach, and he let out a small, "Oh god."

Tamaki turned to his father, hoping that he was wrong.

The look on the older Suoh's face confirmed it.

"Oh god."

**XXXX**

Haruhi carefully peered into the room, being as quiet as possible to try and not disturb the occupants. The whole club had tried visiting these past couple of days, ever since they fund out about the car wreck, but the few times they'd seen Tamaki, he'd been half-awake and totally incoherent thanks to whatever drugs they were giving him, and Kyouya had just been too still.

But the nurse or doctor or whoever she was said that Tamaki was awake now (Kyouya wasn't yet, but they hadn't been expecting him to be) so if they wanted to see him they could. And thus, they were here, peering into Kyouya's room to see how their king was faring.

"Tamaki?" the girl murmured.

The blond twitched slightly, looking up, and a tired, but bright, smile lit up his face. "Haruhi! Hi!" His grin widened a little at the sight of the rest of the club clustered in the doorway behind her. "And everyone else! Come in, come in!" Ever the gracious host, Tamaki pushed himself to his feet, wobbling a little, before coming to the door, grabbing Haruuhi's wrists and tugging her inside.

Like a cork being released, the rest of the Host Club spilled into the room after her. For once, the twins were solemn, uncharacteristically silent as their gazes took in the unchanged visage of the Demon Lord and the scarily cheerful expression on Milord's face.

Hunny wasn't as subtle. "Tama-chan, why're you so happy?"

Tamaki froze in mid-step, staring at the miniature blond.

Then the world spun, because the drugs hadn't _quite_ left his system yet, and the king was falling.

Mori, ever the supportive one, caught him before he was even halfway to the floor, guiding the fallen king to the chair beside Kyouya's bed. After a few moments, the world realigned itself, and Tamaki was sitting upright and looking at Hunny again. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Why are you so happy, Tama-chan?"

The blond's mouth opened, but no sound came out. After a moment, without looking, almost without conscious thought, Tamaki's hand slid out, fumbling on the bed for Kyouya's.

"Well…" he managed after a moment, trying to find the words. "Because…because you came. And you're here." A pause. "That's…good." Was it bad to be happy when their 'family' came and visited them? Tamaki had managed to charm a nurse, who'd informed him that no one surnamed Ootori had, as of yet, come to see Kyouya. If Kyouya was awake, he'd act like it wasn't a problem, but, well, not having your family come see you after you'd been in a car wreck, that just wasn't good.

Kyouya may be good at hiding his true feelings, but even _that_ would break something inside of him.

So…so it was _good_ that Haruhi and the twins and Hunny and Mori came and visited. Because it was Kaa-san and Tou-san's children and friends coming to see them, and…and it was _good_.

But maybe the drugs were still making him a little loopy. Sometimes it was hard to figure out what he should and shouldn't be doing.

"Should I be…_not happy_?" he asked for clarification, frowning as he looked from face to face.

The others looked at each other, at a loss, before Haruhi stepped up. "Well…under the circumstances…I guess it's…good that…you're acting like yourself."

Tamaki blamed the drugs for the strange pauses in Haruhi's sentence. Sometimes words got a little wonky.

He beamed at the girl. "That's good."

**XXXX**

Tamaki was able to last until after the club left. _Then_, and only then, did he let the smile slip.

Carefully nestling Kyouya's hand beside him on the bed, Tamaki sighed, dropping his head in his hands.

"_We're sorry, Suoh-sama, but because of the injury sustained to Ootori-sama's head, it's impossible to tell the extent of the damage. And…you have to also take into account that…well…he might never wake up…"_

The doctors had looked perfectly sympathetic, down to the look in their eyes, but it didn't mean anything if they couldn't wake Kyouya up.

Besides, they were wrong. They'd see. Kyouya was a stubborn bastard, he'd pull through this with all that snakey charm the Demon Lord had. Because…because that was the way Kyouya was.

"_Why are you so happy, Tama-chan?"_

Because if he wasn't happy, if he wasn't smiling, then he had to admit to himself that yes, there was a chance that Kyouya might not wake up. It had been days already, and Kyouya wasn't moving, wasn't reacting to anything, wasn't opening his eyes. If it weren't for the fact that he was breathing (shallow, those breaths were so shallow) Tamaki no doubt would have mistaken Kyouya for a corpse.

But _no_, Kyouya was still breathing, and the monitor thingy over _there_ showed the green bumps and made the _beep-beep_ that said Kyouya's heart was beating, so Tamaki knew that Kyouya would wake up. So long as Kyouya was breathing, he wasn't about to just give up, because that's not the way Kyouya was.

He'd wake up. Tamaki would stake his life on it.

_Why are you so happy?_

Because if Kyouya woke up, he needed to be.

**XXXX**

In a little over a week (a week of sitting for hours beside Kyouya's bed, a week of watching for any sign, any eye twitch, a week of _waiting_) the nurses informed Tamaki that he was all patched up now and could safely be discharged from the hospital. Within a few hours, the Chairman had signed all the papers necessary, and was towing his reluctant son to the car.

Reluctant, and slightly hysterical.

"You can't! I have to be there! _Let me go_!" Thrashing violently, it took several bodyguards to force Tamaki into the backseat of the car, another few to hold him down while he was strapped in. Tamaki knew, without a trace of doubt, that Kyouya would wake up. And he was also, totally certain, that if he wasn't there, the chances went right down the toilet. No one was visiting Kyouya, if Tamaki wasn't there then there'd be nothing for Kyouya to come back to.

If Kyouya had nothing to come back to, then _he might not come back at all_.

Twenty hysterical minutes later, Tamaki was actually being forced into his own room, his own bed. And until his body shut down, until the adrenaline left him and he collapsed, exhausted, people actually had to hold him down to keep him from bolting the room and doing something rash, like run down the highway to get back to the hospital.

When he had finally calmed down (not because he wanted to, mind you) the Chairman sighed, quietly shutting the door on his son's broken-hearted sobs and pretending like he couldn't hear them. He knew the Ootori boy meant a lot to his child, but there was still something about those tears that the Chairman wasn't quite willing to hear. Not from his only heir.

He wondered if Tamaki even knew it himself.

After a moment's reflections, the Chairman decided that no, Tamaki had no idea. He was a little dense, the foolish child.

With that thought, the Chairman left his son to his tears.

**XXXX**

After crying for what seemed like hours, Tamaki succumbed to a drained sleep.

When he woke up, it was morning, and Shima was standing over him.

"If you'll get up, and go to school, the Chairman has said he'd allow you to visit Master Ootori after class."

The blond groaned, but got up, reluctantly. He had to go to school just to make sure Kyouya was okay? That wasn't fair. Cruel father.

But if it was the only way…

Muttering protests the whole time, Tamaki reluctantly got dressed, letting his maids help out more than usual. In his mind, he just didn't want to fight, but to them, they felt cheated, since those pesky doctors got to take care of Master Tamaki for the week, which just wasn't fair considering how light his injuries were. So now they got to return the favor.

Dressed, the blond forced down a few pieces of toast, the dread building with every bite. If he went to school, and Kyouya wasn't there, would he just…break down? Oh, he hoped not. Not only because that would do horrible things to his reputation—he'd cried before, but never for real, never like he'd cried last night—but also because if he cried, in front of everyone, he'd be admitting something to himself that he'd been denying all week.

If he cried in front of everyone, he'd have to admit that Kyouya might _not_—

No. _No._ He _would_ wake up. He _would_. He'd wake up and everything would be normal again.

So no thinking like that.

Resolute, Tamaki stood. He'd go to school, and he'd keep his cool, and he'd go visit Kyouya after school.

He'd be _fine_.

**XXXX**

Tamaki did his best. He was actually quite successful about keeping his tears in, even when he got to school and saw Kyouya's empty desk.

He just took a few deep breaths, sat at his own desk, and tried not to think about it.

Before class, and during all the different breaks, people came up to him, giving their sympathies. A few asked if he knew anything about Ootori-san, but he just smiled at them until they went away. He wasn't ready to talk to them, not yet, not until Kyouya woke up.

Because it was the same. If he talked about Kyouya to someone who wasn't in the club, hadn't seen Kyouya themselves, then it would make Kyouya's situation all the more real, and it just…it wouldn't work.

All in all, he though he did pretty well. He even made it through lunch, which was a torture of well-wishers and grieving fangirls. For such a scary demon lord, Kyouya had a lot of fans. It helped that he put on his Customer Smile whenever he was in front of the girls.

He held himself together well.

It wasn't until he left the last class, and his body just automatically went to the Third Music Room. He hadn't even been thinking about it. He'd been absently wondering how Kyouya was doing, and his feet just led him to the club room.

When he saw the double doors, he knew he was screwed.

Choking back the sobs, the blond darted forward, pushing through the doors, past the neat little sign that said club was cancelled today, and bolted for the couch. Trembling, he collapsed on the cushions, burying his face in his hands, and forced himself to admit the very real possibility that Kyouya might not wake up.

What was he supposed to do if Kyouya didn't wake up?

Kyouya was…Kyouya was _everything_. He held everything together. He understood Tamaki on a level that no one else did, not even his own mother. He could listen to some insane babbling that Tamaki was making—and even if he didn't say it, Tamaki knew that sometimes, he did make insane babbling—and Kyouya was so very good at taking that insane babbling and finding what Tamaki was trying to say.

Then he would turn it to his own advantage, or advantage for the club, but that was just Kyouya being Kyouya.

Tamaki had known, that first time he thought up the host club, that Kyouya was the person to go to with the idea. Not just because Kyouya was his established best friend; that was a given. But he knew, somehow, that Kyouya would have the business savvy to keep the club running. Kyouya would know what to do, would know how to make everything work.

Kyouya was so good at doing everything Tamaki couldn't do. Tamaki would never be able to sit still long enough to figure the numbers. He _could_, he knew the math, but he didn't have the interest or the desire.

That was all Kyouya.

Besides, Kyouya was 'Kaa-san'. Every Tou-san needs a Kaa-san at the helm. Kyouya was Kaa-san and Demon Lord and Shadow King and he was everything rolled into one.

The club couldn't go on if Kyouya wasn't there.

There was no one else fitting to be the right hand man.

It had to be Kyouya.

Whimpering, Tamaki uncurled himself form the ball he somehow found himself in. Had to go see Kyouya. If…if he went and saw Kyouya, then…then Kyouya could come back. _Would_ come back.

There'd be no reason to stay in his dreams, not if Tamaki showed Kyouya that someone cared and was waiting for him.

Still sniffling, he pulled his cellphone out, wiping at his eyes as he dialed.

"Bring the car around front."

**XXXX**

Kyouya looked…

Completely unchanged.

Not just because he was still lying in the same place. No, it was more than that. It was because of the stillness. In the week since the car crash, Kyoya hadn't stirred, hadn't made any move other than breathing. Somehow, Tamaki had expected that Kyouya would…_something_ overnight. But apparently not.

It was a little scary, that stillness.

Tamaki wanted Kyouya to wake up now.

Letting out a breath, Tamaki made his way to his customary chair, taking the other teen's hand.

Then he tried something he hadn't yet done.

He called to Kyouya.

Sure, he'd spoken to the Ootori. He'd spoken a lot to the other male. He'd talked about the weather, about how pretty the nurses were, which ones liked him and which ones just grinned indulgently. He'd talked about anything that was on his mind.

But he'd never actually called out to the other male.

Until now.

"Kyouya. Kyouya! Wake up! Please…"

He needed Kyouya. He needed the Ootori more than just for the club, or because they were friends. Kyouya knew Tamaki, knew the way that Tamaki thought.

He knew how to take what Tamaki had in his head and make it work.

"…Kyouya…Kyouya, please…"

No one else could do that, not on the scale Kyouya did. Tamaki had never let anyone else that close. And it hadn't even been his desire, either. Once he'd gotten close enough to break Kyouya out of his box, Kyouya was close enough to see Tamaki as he truly was.

In breaking Kyouya free, Tamaki had exposed his soul to the teen.

It wasn't a bad feeling.

"…I need you, Kyouya…"

_Because_ it was Kyouya.

"…Kyouya…"

Tamaki couldn't help the desperate sob that strangled his words. Oh, if he broke down here and now, would that somehow get to Kyouya? Kyouya never did seem too affected when Tamaki was crying; then again, his tears were never like _this_. These heart-wrenching sobs that shook his whole frame.

Maybe if Kyouya heard them, and knew they were real, then he would come back?

"…Kyouya, please, _Kyouya_…"

Tamaki was crying now, softly, quietly.

He'd do anything for Kyouya to wake up.

_Please_…

**OOOO**

**Epilogue**

Tamaki hated this, hated the waiting. It seemed like all he did anymore was wait for Kyouya to wake up, wait for the Ootori to open his eyes and say something. He _hated this_. Hated not knowing whether his words were getting through.

Hated the fact that it might not do any god, that Kyouya still might not wake up.

Letting out a small, shuddering sob, Tamaki pressed Kyouya's pale, still hand against his forehead, as though he could somehow _give_ some of his…his _awakeness _to Kyouya and Kyouya would wake up and everything would better.

"Kyouya…" he whispered, desperate, pleading, begging. _Please wake up_.

"You called?"

The blond's head snapped up, tears filling his eyes. "Kyouya!" Ignoring his friend's injuries, he threw himself on the darker teen, hugging him, burying his face in Kyouya's chest. "Thank god! You wouldn't wake up and they said they didn't know if you _ever_ would because you'd hit your head and I'm so sorry, so so sorry, thank god you're awake, thank _god_…"

Tamaki could feel Kyouya slowly, slowly wrapping an arm around him, and for one terrible instant Tamaki flashed back to that horrible car wreck, where Kyouya's arms had wrapped around him, to keep _him _safe.

Keeping Tamaki safe only to get hurt.

But then Tamaki blinked the memory (vision, flashback) away, and he was in the hospital room again, and Kyouya was gently patting him on the head, whispering soothing words that meant nothing.

All it meant was that Kyouya was awake.

_Thank god_.

Tamaki couldn't lose him again. _Wouldn't _lose him again.

**OOOO**

A/N: FINALLY! I have FINALLY finished my companion piece to 'Chorizo'! If you haven't read that, then I recommend you do. If you DID read 'Chorizo', then welcome back, and sorry for the wait!

I hope I got Tamaki down okay. It's hard to write him all angsty when he's such a cheerful loveable idiot, but I hoped I got him down alright. It's hard to imagine him like that, but I did my best.

The title, is, once again, Greek. This time the word means 'crash'. Of course, I got this off a Google dictionary, do if that's wrong, I'm sorry, and you can correct me if you'd like (with the review button!)

Anyway, hopefully my muses will stay with me and I'll have many more lovely fics to put up. Sooner, rather than later.

So, tell me what you thought?


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